Knowledge Is Not Their Problem
by Jedi Buttercup
Summary: Person of Interest tagfic. Latest, for 1.22: "Finch may as well have left a trail of breadcrumbs."
1. Defining Relevance

**Title**: Defining Relevance

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _It didn't take Reese long to figure out the outlines of his new employer's story._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.1 - "Pilot"

**Notes**: Written 9/26/2011 as a tag for the first episode; reposting now there's a section for it here.

* * *

For all he didn't have access to Finch's fancy sources of information, it didn't take Reese long to figure out the outlines of his new employer's story. The man had certainly dropped enough clues; and for someone as conscious of knowledge as he seemed to be, it could only have been deliberate.

Sometime in the recent past, Finch had lost someone important. Parent, lover, partner, child; the details didn't matter. The loss did. Odds were even that it happened at the same time he'd injured his leg and back. The fact that he didn't carry a cane said more: that he wasn't interested in blunting the pain or making things easier on himself, perhaps even that he felt he deserved the impairment. The surveillance system he'd built for the government must have been nearly complete at the time... and afterward, Finch must have discovered his lost one's information at the top of that list of "irrelevant" discards.

That was when the idea had been born, Reese imagined. The day Finch began planning his own death and tracking potential operatives. He couldn't blame him for being secretive and distant; the one thing that kept Finch focused was a compulsion to stop more unnecessary deaths from happening. It was a motivation familiar enough for Reese to trust in, and to use.

Which was why Finch had let him figure that much out, he'd decided. Their investigations required them to work closely enough that a certain level of mutual reliance was _necessary_; to serve as someone else's eyes, feet, and fists was a lot to ask of a deservedly paranoid stranger. Finch had claimed he'd never lie to him, too; Reese had worked that angle from the other side many times, cultivating a relationship to earn an asset's trust, and recognized the manipulation. He just found it hard to care, so long as Finch lived up to his promises.

When he'd first picked his current name, one he answered to more easily than his birth name after a decade with the Agency, he'd been thinking of the classic movie: of the man who fought to defeat an implacable, terrorizing foe to protect one innocent, even at the cost of his own life, and his future son, a Messiah figure who expanded that mandate to protect millions.

He'd failed at the former; Reese's nightmares reminded him of that daily. But they'd been a little quieter- less jagged- since Finch had found him. Because the latter... _that_, he might still be able to accomplish. With Finch's reach and resources, he might, just might, still have a chance at building a better world for other men's Jessicas. Even if he'd long since forfeited the right to live in it himself.

For that opportunity, and for the echoes of his own pain visible in Finch's gaze, Reese would put up with the voice in his ear, the kibitzer over his shoulder, the constant invasion of his _own_ privacy.

He had a purpose again. It was worth it.

-x-


	2. A Very Private Person

**Title**: A Very Private Person

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Reese is not the first operative whose assistance Finch has sought in the matter of the numbers._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.2 - "Ghosts"

**Notes**: More speculation and introspection for episode 2, with a couple of glancing crossover references. Written 9/30/2011.

* * *

Finch does not yet fully trust Reese for several very good reasons. Chief among them is this: Reese is not the first operative whose assistance Finch has sought in the matter of the numbers.

A few of the initial names on his list had simply proven unapproachable, despite their excellent qualifications. Frank Moses, for example, has found love since his departure from the C.I.A., reducing the likelihood that he could be as driven a partner as Finch requires. The man currently calling himself Eliot Spencer likewise reapportioned his allegiance in the murky years after disappearing from government employ; a pity, as his redacted records indicate a true gift for the work. Others, however, have proven far more fickle than Finch anticipated given the apparent congruence of their goals.

His acquaintance with Reese is still in its infancy. How can he yet judge whether the man will begin using the means and resources Finch provides to amass wealth and power in pursuit of unrelated personal objectives? Weapons, money, drugs, powerful people with secrets: the crimes they disrupt in their investigations often abound in assets and leverage enough to tempt an insufficiently focused operative off course, as Finch has found to his regret. Reese has also managed to track him down once already; while the incident confirms Finch's assessment of his skills, it also reminds him unpleasantly of another past partner who'd followed him home to ... renegotiate ... their arrangement. Fortunately, Finch has long since arranged the means to protect himself on his own turf.

He likes to think he doesn't make the same mistakes in judgment twice, but he can't afford to risk it. While it might be true that he'll have to trust someone, sometime ... it is equally true that such trust has to be _earned_.

Reese had not even been the top prospect on the employment list the day Finch had contacted him. While his loss made Reese ripe for the mission, his history of shifting loyalty – between his nation, his woman, and back again – had been a cautionary data point Finch could not ignore. Reese's suicidal stunt had made him a more time-sensitive acquisition than Finch's primary choice, however; the drunken antics with fellow passengers had been one thing, but passively allowing the police to detain him afterward had been the equivalent of sticking his neck in a noose. Finch had chosen to step into that closing door, taking the chance that desperation would make Reese more suited to his sales pitch.

So this is how the situation lies: he will continue to provide Reese with only that information required to get the job done; Reese will continue to pry for more while investigating each person of interest; and hopefully, along the way they will better the lives of countless others. Provided they survive long enough, and Reese does not betray him.

Perhaps, one day, there will be room between them for more.

But perhaps not. Finch is, as he has said before, a very private person.

-x-


	3. All He'd Had to Do Was Ask

**Title**: All He'd Had to Do Was Ask

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Together, Reese figures he and Finch make up about two thirds of a superhero._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.3 - "Mission Creep"

**Notes**: I guess this is becoming a thing for me? Really enjoying this show.

* * *

Together, Reese figures he and Finch make up about two thirds of a superhero. The reclusive billionaire genius and skilled fighter intent on saving as many people as possible: all they're missing from the Bruce Wayne picture is a glib, public face to run interference for their business.

Well- that, and a power on their side in the police department. And an omniscient butler.

They don't really need the social butterfly or the staff, but their very own James Gordon would definitely prove useful. It won't be Detective Fusco, though; the dirty cop makes a decent source of information, but he's not sharp or trustworthy enough to make a good long-term option. Detective Carter, on the other hand, has both intelligence and motivation in spades, enough to already have some idea what he's doing in her city- but she's much too wary to put any trust in him. It still might work out for the best, but it'll take a while to see which way the chips will fall.

In the meantime, he's got Finch to cover him. He'd been a little impressed that the prickly guy who shut him down so hard at the cubicle farm had not only set up the gang's courier in person, but also willingly walked into the middle of a trap to make sure Reese knew it was coming. That had taken some nerve. Reese isn't sure he wants to know what Finch considers "trust", if he'll already go that far for someone who doesn't even know his real name.

Time will tell there too, he supposes. It amuses him to keep Finch on his toes a little, but the details probably aren't actually necessary, not unless they impact the job. Reese can cut him a little slack- especially since he hasn't said one word about the alcohol since he'd hired him.

He's old enough now that it's not as easy to bounce back from a couple of months anesthetizing with booze and slacking on his conditioning as it would be for a guy like Joey Durban; he'd been stupid to let things get that far. Coffee, sunglasses, and a lot of hard work have helped, but he still isn't in the best shape he could be, and until then he really has no stones to throw on the subject of self-sabotaging habits.

If he ever had, really. It had been bittersweet, watching Joey take the step he hadn't, walking into the sunset with a woman who loved him. Reese had told himself that Jessica would be safer without him- and nothing could have been further from the truth, in the end. He doesn't think there'll ever come a day when he _doesn't_ wake up wondering what would've happened if he'd asked that question.

Tell yourself you're better off alone often enough, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Reese lifts his binoculars again, scanning the windows across the street from his perch, and listens to pages turning on the other end of the connection.

-x-


	4. He Has His Reasons

**Title**: He Has His Reasons

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world belongs to CBS.

**Summary**: _Finch is starting to wonder whether he'd moved too soon when he'd offered Reese the job._ 500 words.

**Spoilers**: Person of Interest 1.04 "Cura Te Ipsum"

**Notes**: I get the impression I'm going to be compelled to keep writing these until the show directly josses my character interpretations...

* * *

Finch is starting to wonder whether he'd moved too soon when he'd offered Reese the job.

He'd expected a methodical, talented operative; and Reese is certainly that. What he hadn't expected is the sheer _recklessness_ the man has begun to display as he emerges from the numbed competence that had characterized their early cases. He'd meant to give the man a _purpose_, yes; and Reese has pursued it with every evidence of conviction. But in certain areas, particularly his actions regarding Detective Fusco... Finch simply doesn't understand his behavior.

He'd warned Reese that Fusco would bite him back; and if Megan Tillman had not been so disciplined in her plans to deal with her sister's rapist...

He'd been so determined that killing Benton would have destroyed her, and yet his cavalier management of the detective's affairs had nearly abandoned her to that fate. Finch can't believe the former agent is actually that careless; it doesn't fit with everything else he knows of him. And yet- Reese had vanished from view at a very critical point in Megan's case, only to reappear with a fresh cut marring his cheekbone and an assurance that the situation has been 'taken care of'.

Finch hasn't inquired, any more than he'd asked how Reese knew about the efficacy of lye in disposing of a body. But he wonders, all the same. What if Reese's timing had been just a little bit poorer? What if either the goons who'd delayed him, or Tillman, had been more violent than he'd been ready for?

He glances over at his intent partner, where he stands studying the research data for their next case and sipping at a cup of coffee. He lets his eyes trace over that new scab for a moment, wondering what other bruises Reese's suit may be hiding, then raises a hand to rub absently at the aching, fused vertebrae in his neck.

He'd thought he found the man at the lowest point of his grieving process; that in offering him a way of preventing further tragedies, he would fixate on the work as a means of achieving acceptance, of finding a way to go on. But there's something almost _raw_ in the sharp-edged smiles that never quite reach his eyes- in the ways in which he identifies with each new victim.

Underneath that polished surface, Reese is _still bleeding_. He hasn't reached bottom yet; he's still struggling, the wound only temporarily stanched by the depressive spiral Finch's offer had pulled him out of. Perhaps he really _doesn't_ care what becomes of him, so long as he goes down saving someone else from a similar fate. That attitude could be fatal to them as a team. And yet- the very thought of cutting Reese loose, as he might so easily do, to start over-

Finch swallows, closing his eyes as he rubs at the stiffened column of his spine.

He could. But that would make him a hypocrite, wouldn't it?

After all, he's still bleeding, too.

-x-


	5. Benefit of the Doubt

**Title**: Benefit of the Doubt

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Reese can do a lot of things, but he can't rescue someone he doesn't even know is in danger._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.5 - "Judgment"

**Notes**: A more serious tag for the episode. Because positive resolution or no, there were a lot of ruffled feathers in this one. It was Finch's turn to doubt last time; now, it's Reese's.

* * *

The moment when Reese realizes he's protecting the wrong Sam Gates is the first time he's seriously doubted Finch since coming on board with him. Whether he'd intended to or not, on some level he must have actually _believed_ Finch when he'd said he'd never lie to him.

Human beings _always_ lie. To themselves, if no one else; it's the polite little fictions that keep the civilized world turning. But despite the fact that he _knows_ the machine is a human creation, he's found himself trusting the data it spits out- taking what Finch says about its programming for granted. He hadn't even _considered_ that it might rank a schoolkid's life below a judge's, all other concerns being equal.

What's the point of sliding through the shadows to pick up where the government leaves off, if the most vulnerable people still end up paying for it? Reese can do a lot of things, but he can't rescue someone he doesn't even know is in danger.

He grits his jaw as he walks to the Library to patch up the bullet wound in his shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to leash his temper. It's unreasonable to expect anyone to be infallible. Reese has, in fact, repeatedly stalked Finch in an effort to uncover evidence of the human being behind the shield of mystery. So here is proof: Finch is not a perfect chessmaster; the balance of power is equal.

It's just that Reese has started to _rely_ on Finch these last few weeks, and now he's wondering if his instincts have failed him. He should have been _expecting_ an eventual conflict of priorities. But he hadn't. And if he'd been wrong about that, what else is he wrong about?

What _are_ Finch's reasons for hiring him? How much good are they actually doing? If the system scans the entire country, how many people are dying while Finch's system cherry picks New York social security numbers?

It helps, a little, to know that Finch has reservations, too. He'd noticed the title of the book Finch was reading: _It Can't Happen Here_, a cautionary tale about a dictator coming to power in America. It doesn't take much imagination to guess what might happen if an unscrupulous politician got his hands on Finch's Orwellian machine.

In that sense, it can be argued that it's a _good_ thing the government lets lesser crimes slip in favor of terrorism prevention. Reese is more than familiar with such justifications. But he can't look away from the human cost any more.

"_I won't let him wind up alone_."

And that's the one thing Reese keeps coming back to: that at the end of the day, _he_ isn't alone anymore. When his bargaining chip fails, when the odds are stacked against him- Finch comes through.

So maybe they _don't_ have the same perspective. But maybe they don't have to, if they keep covering each other.

And maybe it's finally time Reese actually thanked him for giving him a job to do.

-x-


	6. The Things He Cares About

**Title**: The Things He Cares About

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _"You like her, don't you," Finch says, lifting his eyes to meet Reese's intent gaze._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.6 - "The Fix"

**Notes**: Back to stunted friendship fluff before things get tougher again, because I can't resist. Though I did like Zoe; I wouldn't mind seeing her again.

* * *

It takes a moment, as it usually does, for Finch to become aware of Reese's arrival at the library. He's fairly certain the man finds his startled reactions a perpetual source of enjoyment.

He's not startled this morning, however; he's been expecting him. Finch ignores him for a moment as he brushes his fingers over the article about Dana Miller's aneurysm, remembering the stricken look on Keller's face with a glow of satisfaction. He hadn't been in a position to help her when the machine gave him her number, but he's avenged her now and made certain no others will follow in her footsteps. It gives him hope that more of those he's failed might eventually be given closure.

And as for the fixer whose dealings had brought Ms. Miller back to his attention...

"You like her, don't you," he says, lifting his eyes to meet Reese's intent gaze.

Reese shrugs. "Zoe's a fine figure of a woman," he says, words measured as if carefully chosen. "I admire her."

_Admire_ is a neutral sort of word; it could apply to her choice of occupation, her personal appeal- or both. Finch suspects Reese means both; he also suspects that, if asked, Ms. Morgan would say the same in return.

And yet. Finch turns away from the wall and walks haltingly to the nearest computer table, considering the morning's events. Reese had returned to her, borrowing a window of time to make certain there were no loose ends to pose her further threat- but had made no effort to court further involvement, despite her implied invitation.

Finch had exposed himself a bit more than he'd intended during her case; Ms. Miller's voice on the stolen recording had brought back the helplessness of the months he'd spent alone and unable to act, made him somewhat incautious in his explanations. He'd nearly said _we_; had shortened the emotional distance he'd been holding between them. But Reese had not mocked him, or made a facile remark to blunt the moment. He'd simply- stared back at him, understanding.

Just as he's doing now. Though he'd been considerably less smug about it, then.

"She seems to be a woman of influence in the city," he says mildly, unable to resist prodding further at the subject. "We may see more of her in future."

"Perhaps," Reese replies, unruffled. "Though you may have noticed she didn't ask for _my_ number."

"And why is that?"

Reese smirks. "I'm a ghost, Finch. She thrives on being the star that everyone else orbits." The rest of the explanation is left to hang, undefined, in the air.

"Ah." Reese _has_ claimed he has no 'things' he cares about; and power amassed for its own sake doesn't appeal to him, either. If that makes him a ghost, and this library his anchor- well. Finch much prefers his sort of haunting to those hollow months of unanswered numbers.

He sits, warmed with irrational pleasure, and reaches for the keyboard to pull up their new case.

-x-


	7. Eye of the Beholder

**Title**: Eye of the Beholder

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: Three people, three perspectives on "Witness": _what you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.7 - "Witness"

**Notes**: Breaking my pattern, a little, since I'd already written frustrated-Reese after "Judgment" and there are, in fact, more regular characters on this show than just Reese and Finch. Summary from C.S. Lewis.

* * *

**1.**

Carter shakes her head as she scans the evidence sheet from the hit on Ivan Yogarov. She hadn't liked the guy, but what a waste. With both his sons in custody, that leaves all the Russians' territory in Brighton Beach ripe for the picking.

Elias is tearing her city apart, and all she's accomplished so far is to clean up after him. It's maddening.

She supposes she knows now just whose side the Man in the Suit is on.

Carter hopes she's wrong; there are pieces that still don't fit that theory. But after the theft from evidence lockup and yesterday's rescue, what else is she supposed to think?

Damn him, anyway. She'll catch up to him one of these days, and then they'll see.

**2.**

Reese replays the events of the last twenty-four hours again and again in his mind as he storms away from the boardwalk. How the hell had this happened?

Finch's machine is only half of the equation. _He's_ supposed to be the other half, the 'doing something about it' part of their enterprise. It's not as though Charlie had been the first of the Numbers to turn out to be a perpetrator; Reese had known it could happen. He should have seen it coming.

He's getting soft. He has attachments, now. Things he cares about. People that influence his thinking. If he hadn't been anxious about losing contact with Finch, would he have connected to the "teacher" so easily?

Elias had been so _sincere_, and he'd bought into all of it: every gushing word about his kids, every grateful smile, every gesture of physical weakness. But he'd been _using_ Reese all along.

Not only had Reese exposed himself- a fair sample of his skillset, his goals, and his face- to an ambitious, intelligent criminal, he'd also made his partner _and_ the cop working with them vulnerable to Elias' manipulations. He doesn't know if Elias has the resources to trace the completely unsecured call to Finch, but he wouldn't bet against it, and Fusco has the bruises to prove he's been compromised as an asset.

He has a feeling that the next time they meet, it won't be Reese's life that Elias threatens.

That... is not going to be a pleasant day.

**3.**

Lionel chews his split lip as he stares at his inbox.

**To:** a3re at x7anonz com  
**From:** lfusco at fast1mail com  
**Subject:** …

Somewhere along the line from Oyster Bay, he's apparently started to care about the job again. Go figure. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, or whatever, but it had really stung when Mr. Friend of a Friend doubted him. What, had he actually thought Lionel called that morning because he'd been working for Elias all along?

Maybe it's dumb to be pissed that the vigilante blackmailing him isn't _completely_ omnipotent, but he can't help it; he's furious that _he's_ the one bleeding while Elias is wandering around free.

He flexes his fingers, then attaches the Yogarov report to the blank message and clicks Send.

He's pretty sure that says enough.

-x-


	8. Death is Just the Beginning

**Title**: Death is Just the Beginning

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _The road behind may be rockier than paper and ink and pixels had led Finch to expect, but the past is not the present_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.8 - "Foe"

**Notes**: Back to Finch! When is the next episode, again?

* * *

Reese has consistently exhibited the unusual tendency to empathize with every Number with whom he comes into contact, but that resonance had seemed especially close with Ulrich Kohl. That is perhaps only natural, given the congruity of their past occupations; but it has driven home to Finch how very fortunate he is that Reese had chosen to direct his destructive tendencies inward, rather than outward, by the time he had approached him.

For Kohl, that point had only arrived after three attempted murders, two of them successful, and a shocking discovery; and he had chosen the swiftest available method of conclusion afterward, selecting Reese as his instrument of oblivion. Finch finds it somewhat curious that Reese had chosen such a passive and drawn-out method as alcohol poisoning under similar circumstances...

...or perhaps not, given his repeated references to the length of time he has, in the past, resisted torture. Those data points lay a trail of breadcrumbs that Finch's calculating mind winces to follow.

Finch had seen more classified documents, he suspects, over the last nine years than virtually any other person still living. He has reviewed every fragment of Reese's life he could dig up. He has watched and listened to Reese shoot, strike, and otherwise neutralize a wide variety of violent individuals pursuant to Finch's own orders. And yet, like Mrs. Kohl, he finds he is still capable of surprise at the reality of his partner's skills and experiences.

_"I watched what the missions did to you. The darkness in your eyes..."_

_"...I told myself that he had lied first. So much death. How could he?"_

He is also quite certain that on some level, Reese is playing him. The Eggs Benedict, the green tea, the wry conversation, even the spotter's scope? Reese himself had said it: _cultivate a relationship and earn the asset's trust_.

Unlike Mrs. Kohl, however, Finch had gone into this business with eyes wide open. The road behind may be rockier than paper and ink and pixels had led him to expect, but the past is not the present, and in the present, Finch has only had true cause to fear Reese once: the morning after their first meeting, when under the influences of adrenaline, confusion, and in all likelihood a nasty hangover, he had manhandled Finch and pinned him against a wall. Yet even under duress, he had not hurt him.

He thinks about Reese's repeated statement that no one deserves be alone; about the ache of facing the numbers on his own after losing Ingram; and about the wreck of a man he had scraped up out of a police station. About false names, false graves, and the fact that his last eight weeks have contained so much more _meaning_ than the eight _months_ before that. About betrayals, brokenness, and new beginnings.

About life after death. Here be monsters: and, yet.

Finch doesn't remember what hope feels like. But thinks he may be starting to remember what it feels like to live.

-x-


	9. It Doesn't Change Anything

**Title**: It Doesn't Change Anything

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Why'd he really do it? No one that deadly and that well informed is that altruistic, in Carter's experience_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.9 - "Get Carter"

**Notes**: Yay, finally some Carter backstory! And two Harolds, by my count. Keep up the good work, show!

* * *

It had been smart of him to ditch the suit and cut the hair, Carter reflects as she watches the motorcycle zip away. A really distinctive, established image is its own sort of invisibility; people start looking for the uniform, not the face, and skip right over you when you change it. One more piece of evidence, not that she needs it, to point to a background in government service.

Of course, that kind of misdirection works a lot better if you don't immediately show off your new style to the opposition. Or if you have other, equally distinctive signatures to follow. Why'd he really do it? No one that deadly and that well informed is that altruistic, in her experience.

But at least she's learned one thing from all this: 'employee of Elias' is off the list of possibilities. Unless Elias is playing a lot deeper game than anyone knows... but, no. She may be no Sherlock Holmes, but he's no Moriarty, either. He's not even his father. He's reaching for it, maybe, but she's making it her job to see that his reach exceeds his grasp, and his choice of response is affirmation enough that she's affecting his operations. Maybe she doesn't have as much backup as she should have. But-

_"You're not alone."_

He'd made the statement sound like a promise- and what was more, he'd sounded like he meant it.

Carter's been an interrogator; she passed the bar; she's a detective first grade. She _knows_ people. And if maybe her commitment to _legal_ means of making the world safer rubs a few the wrong way- that doesn't affect her perceptions, just how she acts on them. She'd believed the guy enough about the threat to wear a vest. And she can't help but believe the rest of it now, even though she doesn't dare rely on it.

He may call himself a vigilante or a protector, but he's broken- she can't even count how many laws off-hand, now. He hasn't killed many, but he has killed, and dozens more have been wounded. Destruction of property. Possession of illegal firearms. Armed robbery. Criminal trespass. And so on and so forth. He's playing god, and she _despises_ that in a man; has even before her naiveté cost the life of a man she'd negotiated with in good faith.

Everyone should be _equal_ under the law: she really believes that, despite the imperfections of the system. It leaves a bad taste in her mouth that this guy, in all his earnest violence, is making her feel _grateful_ to him for breaking it.

"Someone out there, Mom?" Taylor asks, and her attention pulls back inside the diner swift enough to give her whiplash. Never mind Mr. Motorcycle Jacket; this is what's important, this right here.

But he did make it possible for her to come back to her son. And for that... well. She'll give him a free pass, just this once.

"Just thinking. C'mon, let's get you to school."

-x-


	10. What He Can Live With

**Title**: What He Can Live With

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG-13/T

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Lionel has to grudgingly admire the man's recruitment methods_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.10 - "Number Crunch"

**Notes**: I did my Reese speculation, and my Carter exploration; but I neglected a canon-adjacent tag. So... Fusco; I haven't done a full tag for him yet, and enough other people have done Finch for this one.

* * *

Lionel doesn't know how the Suit and his pal know what they know. Or why they seem to give a damn about Carter- always wanting to know how she's doing. Wanting her protected. Why her, of all cops? Just because she's the one officially chasing them? The squeaky wheel?

What the hell does that make Lionel, then?

He supposes he should just be thankful he lived past the first time he'd threatened the guy, never mind the second. Couldn't be just because he's _useful_; there's obviously a shit ton of money and influence behind him, enough to buy scores of cops if he really wanted to. Case in point: the easy way he'd had Lionel moved downtown, the instant the whim took him to put an ear in Carter's precinct.

Maybe he has; maybe Lionel just doesn't know it. 'Course, it doesn't really matter from his point of view, does it?

Some days, Lionel thinks the Suit's gotta be working for some other crime family. Some days, he thinks he's trying to be some kinda Batman instead; his hat's a little too grey for Lionel to be sure which. But either way... apart from the Sword of Damocles dangling overhead, Lionel's life has changed enough these days he has to grudgingly admire the man's recruitment methods.

Somewhere between shooting him in the vest and making him bury Stills, the Suit had told him he thought Lionel was in it for the loyalty, not the money. He hadn't been wrong about that. And in moving Lionel to Homicide, giving him a better partner and the chance to make a difference for a change at a job he'd been disillusioned by a hell of a long time ago, he's training Lionel not to want to break away from his new leash even when the asshole jerks on it to remind him it's there.

Sending cameras to the office. Making comments about his digestion, for Christ's sake. Between the Suit's ninja skills and the behind the scenes wizardry of his creaky little friend, they could probably scare _anyone_ straight.

And maybe that's why there haven't been more bodies on the ground, yet. Lionel's been kinda holding his breath on that score. Whatever reason the guy has for being in New York... whatever he and his friend are really up to... there's gotta be some kind of master plan. Nobody does what they do without good reason.

And nobody gets away with it for long regardless, not without attracting some _serious_ attention. Carter's in the shit already. Maybe Lionel _is_ better off at that, kept at a distance and continually reminded he's not trusted.

Unimportant. Which means: not as much of a target.

He can live with that. He can even put up with the constant surveillance, if it ups his chances of being there for his kid's next game.

...They better not get any ideas about calling him Fiasco from that aide, though. A man's got to draw the line somewhere, after all.

-x-


	11. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Title**: Down the Rabbit Hole

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Joss wonders how she could ever have thought of Burdett as harmless_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.11 - "Super"

**Notes**: Been a very busy week. Squeaking this in just before the new one airs in my timezone!

* * *

Sitting there, staring across the table at the narrow-eyed man who'd just run her all over town for his own amusement, Joss wonders how she could ever have thought of Burdett as _harmless_.

Part of it's the wardrobe, she's sure. Part of it's the setting, too. The first glimpse she'd ever had of him had been on that security footage, folded up under a counter and then manhandled by the man she now knows to be his partner. Then, at his supposed apartment: the carefully demonstrated limp, the sweater, the little round wire-rimmed glasses? All that babble about the legal case he was working on? His whole image had been calculated to add up to a small-scale annoyance, a bland irritant to shake her head at and forget when he failed to provide any useful information.

He's just as much a chameleon as his partner, though, isn't he? Looking at him now, Joss feels an instinctive, cautionary check that she doesn't even get from Snow. The dark suit, the heavier glasses, the glare, the way he's made her dance to his tune? Burdett- or whoever the hell he is- holds all the power now, and he knows it. Not to mention, the fact that he's working with a man of John's talents says enough all on its own. She's pretty sure her instincts aren't wrong.

It's a damn good thing she's not officially on the case anymore. Bad enough that Fusco's going to have questions when she gets back; she'd just as soon keep the lying to a minimum. Despite all the trouble John's given her over the months since she met him, she wants to understand him; has ever since the beginning. Because for every broken law, every body left behind, every reason he's given her to distrust him... John's also saved lives, hers included, and brought justice where it was needed.

What's that saying about justice being blind? Joss might as well be, for all she's been able to see her path clearly since it crossed his. She wants- _needs_- to know how he does it. And why.

And apparently, _this_ guy is part of it: this cipher of man who obviously distrusts her, and keeps dodging her questions with a tragic story about some guy at the bar. But if 'Derek Watson' was really why he'd chosen this particular meeting place, he'd not only have to know the man's habits and history, he'd also have to know _Joss_ well enough to predict how long it would take her to track down that cell phone data...

"You can't know that," she says, half-laughing; half struck with apprehension.

Burdett doesn't smile, though; just launches one last barbed remark before leaving. "Did you bring your service weapon, Detective? Sorry to toss you into the deep end. But as you know, my friend is indisposed."

Indisposed; well, that's something. Tit for tat: okay, she'll play.

But when Joss reaches the end of this maze? Her answers damn well better be waiting.

-x-


	12. Looking Underneath the Underneath

**Title**: Looking Underneath the Underneath

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _There's one thing Reese can never allow himself to forget, irrespective of trust or emotion_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.12 - "Legacy"

**Notes**: Squeaking this in just under the wire, again. Reese's attitude this episode really made me think.

* * *

Reese knows it bothers Finch that he invests so much energy into his interactions with Detective Carter. It's true, there's a certain element of risk in continuing to involve her in their operations, particularly after the incident with the CIA. Joss is a principled woman, and there's only so far she'll be willing to bend.

But those very principles are precisely why he'd agreed to meet with her at the diner that morning. In some ways, he understands her better than he does Finch; it's not that she's any less complex a person, but her convictions burn right under the surface, no obfuscations or intermediaries between motivation and action. He has no doubt, for example, that her offer of help the first time they'd met had been in earnest. Cautious, but genuine: that's the way she operates.

_Making that transition back can be tough. Some guys I knew... got a little lost._

She'd been closer to the mark than she knew with her little speech. And despite her suspicions, even then- it had been obvious what she was up to with that cup of water- she'd also been the first person to really try to _see_ him since he'd arrived in New York. He can't forget that, not even with all of Finch's resources and connections at his fingertips to make her participation ultimately unnecessary.

Because that's another thing he can never allow himself to forget, irrespective of trust or emotion: that Finch deliberately recruited Reese _as an asset_, just as Reese did with Fusco. And an intelligent asset should always be wary of his handler.

Oh, they're partners, now, sure. Finch _is_ committed to their cause; that's one thing he's never tried to hide. And choosing Reese for this job _had_ kept him from a slow, wasteful death. One might even call him Reese's savior without an undue amount of irony. But it's an undeniable fact that he'd been observing Reese for some time before finally making an offer, watching his downward spiral until he reached just the right degree of desperation. And Finch still does his utmost to preserve a certain distance, even after everything they've been through. One has to wonder who he's protecting.

He lifts his camera, snapping another photo through a window as he listens in on Finch's "meeting". From what they've said, the kid who lives there is a doctor, a do-gooder, and the son of an old friend... but not, apparently, aware of Finch's real identity either.

Puzzles within puzzles. It's almost admirable how much the man manages to conceal from even such a close connection. But it's concerning, too. People in their position can't afford weaknesses, and the way Finch talks to this Will, he's _definitely_ a weakness. And since a vulnerability for Finch also effectively threatens Reese now... especially when he might prioritize that vulnerability over _him_... that means Reese needs more information.

He's probably pushed at Carter's boundaries enough for one day, though. It's time to give Lionel a call.

-x-


	13. Connecting the Dots

**Title**: Connecting the Dots

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Root has misstepped by throwing down this gauntlet_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.13 - "Root Cause"

**Notes**: Back to Finch; it's been a few weeks since I explored his POV.

* * *

If the hacker's use of his most common alias' first name is meant to alarm him, she has underestimated Finch as severely as he'd underestimated her when he'd first begun backtracking the Trojan virus from Scott Powell's computer. There are any number of ways she could have obtained it; he has not precisely been sparing of its use in recent months, and he is of course excruciatingly aware of the vast array of surveillance data constantly collected in the city and the multiplicity of ways an unscrupulous person might tap into it.

He _is_ intrigued, however. Had she already known that name when she'd created the false data to set up a patsy for the congressman's shooting? Had she been _anticipating_ the likelihood that Finch and Reese would intervene? Or had she researched them _after_ they began skewing her carefully engineered plan off course?

Either way, there must be other connections somewhere in the Venn intersection between her sphere of influence and theirs. Her conviction that there will be a "next time" virtually ensures it. Uncovering those connections is likely to be quite an involved process.

Reese has teased before that there is no Machine; there is only Finch himself. That is not, literally, true. What _is_ true is that someone had had to teach the Machine what to do, and what better teacher than the man who had designed it? Finch sees patterns everywhere he looks, and speaks the language of digital warfare like a native; complex intellectual problems are his bread and butter. Root has misstepped by throwing down this gauntlet.

That is a common failing in those who succumb to the lure of power, he has found: an urge to prove themselves against the strength of others. Particularly in the young; and she can't be more than Will's age, at most, to have blended in at that dorm. Fortunately, neither is an ailment from which Finch suffers. And he has resources that she will never be able to match- in quality, if not in nature.

That thought reminds him of his partner, and he surreptitiously pulls up the tracking data for Reese's new phone... and for Zoe Morgan's. They had stood in proximity outside the Powell residence for some considerable length of time; and though they'd departed separately, Finch would not be surprised to see their indicators in close company again at some much later hour. There had been appreciation in her eyes when she spoke of his partner; and from his swift reaction to the simple mention of "she" in context with political maneuvering, Ms. Morgan seems to have left an impact on Mr. Reese as well.

Good. It might prove beneficial to have Reese's sharp attention diverted while Finch takes his next few steps. He has not missed the fact that Detective Fusco has been pursuing "another assignment" of late.

He packs up his laptop, then calls for a driver and limousine.

As Will might say, if Finch trusted him with the truth: Game On.

-x-


	14. Cat and Mouse

**Title**: Cat and Mouse

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _If this had been the first case she'd worked with John and his friend, Joss would have suspected them of picking it to appeal to her sympathies._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.14 - "Wolf and Cub" (aired 2/11)

* * *

A fourteen year old black kid without a father who just lost his last family... if this had been the first case she'd worked with John and his friend, Joss would have suspected them of picking it to appeal to her sympathies. It isn't, though; John has no need to set the hook that hard anymore, and he knows it. So the fact that she thought of Taylor the minute she looked up Darren McGrady? Probably just incidental.

_Probably_. Not that he ever answers her questions about how they choose their cases. It galls Joss a little that she'd _told_ him she was buying in because she wanted to know more, and weeks later she's still as much in the dark about their operations as ever. She'd already known their methods are illegal, their resources vast, and John's smug attitude at least eighty percent justified; every new thing she's learned since has only come at the cost of more questions.

It's all just a little too cliché to be comfortable. Every so often, she can't help but glance over and check the verge for primroses.

The thing is. For every unexplained demand she receives over that extra cell phone, every lie she tells another officer to cover, every crime John commits in pursuit of something she's told him... there's also that moment when he hands a life he's saved over into her care, or punts another scumbag off the streets with enough evidence to convict him. John intervenes in situations the police can't or won't touch, to help people he doesn't know who will probably never be able to pay him back for his assistance.

She _believes_ in that kind of service. It's why she's a cop. It's why she joined the Army. And it's probably at least half of why she keeps cutting him slack, when he pulls this kind of bullshit on her.

John's like a cat, wary and untrusting, even though Joss wouldn't even be involved if he hadn't kept provoking her. Or a teenage boy. She's a mother, she knows the signs when she sees them. He's testing her boundaries to see what she'll do: which today apparently means smirking in her rearview mirror and stealing her cruiser.

He'll be back soon enough, all charming smiles and disingenuous apologies. He'll save the kid's life, help solve Travis McGrady's murder, and then disappear wherever he goes when he's not playing plainclothes Batman. There may or may not be a few more wrecked cars and kneecapped perps along the way, like mangled mice dropped on her doorstop.

It's cute, really, but also infuriating. Joss does like him, despite everything, but there's times she'd really like to turn him over her knee and pop him a good one. Figuratively speaking... though he'd probably take it with a grin and a smart-ass comment, even if it wasn't.

She watches him drive off with a shake to clear her head of that image, then snorts and finishes cuffing the latest offering.

-x-


	15. St Peter, Don't You Call Me

**Title**: St. Peter, Don't You Call Me

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Lionel considers the bookends of his brief adventure as an upstanding citizen_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.15 - "Blue Code"

**Notes**: Oh, Fusco. Title from the lyrics of "Sixteen Tons".

* * *

The crunch of the shovel as it cuts into the earth sounds different, in among the trees, than it had in the sandy soil of Oyster Bay. But the slide of the wooden shaft in his grip, and the jar of the blade as it strikes the ground, feels all too familiar. Appropriate bookends, Lionel figures, for his brief adventure as an upstanding citizen.

Both times, the men he's buried have been officers not much different from the cop Lionel had thought himself to be, before a crazy vigilante had decided to make a project out of him. And both times, their deaths have only tightened the leash on him, despite the fact that his hadn't been the hand wielding the weapon. There's a sick kind of irony there.

He'd been starting to enjoy the benefits of walking the straight and narrow. The faces of the people he's helped; a decent if sometimes annoyingly righteous partner; and the collars and the commendation, too. The Suit had given that to him, he and Finch. But what they have given, they're now taking away.

Why? Why make him straighten up in the first place, if they needed a voice inside HR? Why not just leave him there to start with? Why give him a taste of the good life, only to yank it away?

Lionel tosses the last shovelful of earth onto the improvised grave, then lets the blade bite into the ground again as he leans heavily against the handle. Stupid question. He _knows_ why, he just doesn't like to think about what it says about his character. They've trained him, like a dog, to make him _want_ to be better. And trusted that it'll hold even when he goes back under.

The worst part is that Lionel can't even hate them for stooping to such obvious indoctrination methods... because it would never have taken so well if there weren't a part of him that had already wanted out. The same part that's making him feel nauseous at the prospect of returning to the fold.

He'll do it, though. Of course he will. What the hell else is he going to do? He can't get out on his own, the only way forward is through, and at least this time there's a _purpose_ to what he's doing. Something more than money or peer pressure.

_You've done some nice work_: that had been good to hear. Finally. But his hands _are_ dirty, and always will be. And if those stains can be put to good use...

It occurs to him, not for the first time, that maybe John anticipates him so well because he's done his bit in the same shoes. But at least he's shooting straight about the whole thing; Lionel doesn't think he could take it if the man suddenly got all empathetic with _him_. He ain't no bleeding heart.

It's enough to know that if he's walking back into the dark, at least he's not doing it all alone.

-x-


	16. Building His Wings On The Way Down

**Title**: Building His Wings On The Way Down

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Living like there's no tomorrow is a game for young men- or those with nothing left to lose_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.16 - "Risk"

**Notes**: The plot thickens. Title from a Ray Bradbury quote: "Living at risk is jumping off the cliff and building your wings on the way down."

* * *

No risk, no reward? No consequences, either. Living like there's no tomorrow is a game for young men- or those with nothing left to lose. Adam Saunders may be the former, but hopefully he's learned enough from his little adventure that he won't live to be the latter.

The kid's had it rough before, Reese knows; but not that rough, and with his three thousand dollar suits, loving uncle, and shoeboxes full of cash, Reese doubts his temporary homelessness will stick with him for long. But then, to look at him, no one would think any differently of Reese, would they?

In the last few months, he's gone from sleeping on the streets to partnering with a billionaire who drops our's and we's in reference to assets that beggar anything he'd ever handled in government service. It's hard not to start taking that kind of luxury for granted. But trusting in it is dangerous; it dulls the instincts. Reese had arranged that little trip down under Joan's watchful eye as much for his own sake as for Adam's... though he'd ended up getting a more potent reminder than he'd intended.

It's not that he hasn't been expecting an eventual showdown. Adam had asked if he'd ever played Russian Roulette; and what else should he call the trail of living enemies he and Finch have left behind them? Threats will only deter the hardened ones for so long. It's not as though he hadn't recognized a mind as sharp as Finch's in Elias from the start, either. The surprise was that Elias has amassed enough power to helm the Tritak scheme in only a few short months.

It hasn't been that long since Elias was micromanaging individual break-ins. Less, since the takeover of a single neighborhood absorbed the man's full attention. But he's swimming in a bigger pool, now: manipulating multiple agencies and politicians to swindle hundreds of millions of dollars. There's no telling how far a man with that kind of initiative could reach by the end of the year.

Move and countermove. Carter's instincts are good, but Elias' are better. The mob boss knows Reese protected her, and her involvement in the SEC case is easy to determine, so arranging that call had been more taunt than anything else. The smile audible in Elias' voice had only underscored the point: what else might he know? Where will his retribution strike?

Reese thinks of his partner, who seems to believe debugging his system means their hacker has forgotten their location; Carter, in harm's way each day; Fusco, embedded among Elias' cronies in HR; and again of Joan, and the days when he had no one and nothing to worry about.

Of Jessica. Of the dead businessman Fusco's research on 'Harold Wren' had turned up.

No risk, no vulnerability, either. But Reese has had his share of living without connections, without purpose. That's one reminder he'll never need again.

Let Elias try. The final roll of the dice will answer all.

-x-


	17. This Is Not the Grand Arena

**Title**: This Is Not the Grand Arena

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Reese's alliance with Carter has been a fragile thing from the start_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.17 - "Baby Blue"

**Notes**: Pragmatic!John. Title from the Operative's line in Serenity: "You are fooling yourself, Captain. Nothing here is what it seems. You are not the plucky hero, the Alliance is not an evil empire, and this is not the grand arena."

* * *

Reese's alliance with Carter has been a fragile thing from the start. Constructed of hope and shadow, dedicated to saving the lives that slip between the gaps of an increasingly corrupt legal system, it couldn't have existed in a city without the malignant counterweight of Elias.

That cuts both ways, of course. He'd seen today's withdrawal coming. And if she's honest with herself, Reese knows Carter has, too. She's chided him for playing God, for taking too much into his own hands, for months; it's just that until Leila's number had come up, the lines he and Finch had crossed hadn't pushed too hard against the principles she's chosen to defend.

And even now- if things had worked out differently, if Elias had kept his word, she'd probably just have shaken her head and continued as usual. With disparaging words for their methods- and grudging thanks for their results. But they hadn't. Szymanski is one of hers, one of the good ones, not one of Elias's; and he's in surgery tonight because John had given their safe house up to the enemy. It doesn't matter what his reason was; that's more than she finds herself able to accept.

John regrets the detective's pain. But it doesn't change the necessity of his actions- just their price.

In the game of choose your consequences, once he'd taken Finch's offer, he'd given up the ability to _not_ care about every life under his protection. He'd turned that switch off once; he never will again, not after all it had cost. And if sometimes that takes him farther into the grey areas than Carter is willing to follow... well, this isn't Metropolis, and she knows that. It isn't even Gotham, however tempting the comparison might be; they don't live in a world painted in primary colors. He is not the hero of the piece, and he doesn't choose his battles with accessible legal channels in mind.

Moretti had dug his own grave long ago, and Szymanski had signed up to put his life on the line. Both men were well over the age of reason; they'd made their choices, and Reese had given them each as much warning as he could afford. Leila had enjoyed none of those privileges. She was six months old, and if Reese had left her fate to the police, they would still be looking for her.

He'll never be able to forget that tiny form shaking against him. If anyone's truly at fault for that, it's Elias; and once Carter's had a chance to think, he gives even odds that she'll relent. The only thing that's changed since she first joined their cause is her perception of how far Reese is willing to go- and from the way she'd threatened _him_ over Leila, her convictions aren't truly as different from his as she'd like to pretend.

Whether she does or not, though, Reese won't withdraw his protection.

The next time Elias threatens one of his- there _will_ be payment..

-x-


	18. Never Been Alrighter

**Title**: Never Been Alright-er

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _It's astounding that the evening had ended without more severe consequences._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.18 - "Identity Crisis"

**Notes**: I know, I know, I'm late posting this. Title from the episode. Really interesting, comparing the end-scene of this episode to half a dozen episodes ago...

* * *

A life spent minimizing his own footprint- and deliberately exposing that of others to scrutiny- has left Finch, as Reese is so aware, a _very private person_. Information is power, in a very real sense, in their digitized world; and he who controls that information controls _people_. The case of Jordan Hester is but one of the more blatant examples of that maxim in modern society.

Yet even the information available to the all-seeing eye of the Machine has its limits; even a man who has spent his entire adult life manipulating such power cannot always remain at the helm. It had taken him longer than it perhaps should have to learn that lesson; taken Nathan's death, his own injuries, and the Irrelevant List to teach him. But he had not been able to stop trying to give the power available to him purpose; and that had led him to Reese. And ultimately, this latest loss of control.

When the false Jordan had drugged him, he'd lost control of _himself_. There is a reason Finch does not drink to excess; a reason he avoids recreational pharmaceuticals and refuses pain medication beyond the minimum amount necessary to function. The Ecstasy had stripped that last defense from him; and as a result, his life, his identity, and things he held still dearer had all been put at risk. It's astounding that the evening had ended without more severe consequences than mere loss of dignity and increased physical discomfort the next morning.

And yet. There are cultures that use mind-altering substances as a means of achieving enlightenment; and he has, indeed, been enlightened as a result of this latest misadventure.

The fact that he'd been in a position to be drugged in the first place... Finch had not even argued with Reese that morning when the man he'd employed to act for him had casually directed _him_ to act. How many times between Nathan's death and employing Reese had he exposed himself to physical danger? And how many, since? Among how many other ways knowing Reese has changed him?

While the ebullience and urge to communicate induced by the drug had resulted in an offer to hack the Pentagon for Fusco, around John, he hadn't simply been gregarious and easily amused: he'd been _open_ in a way he'd only really allowed himself to be for one other person. He would have answered any question John asked- had even begged him not to leave. That was more intimacy than he'd ever intended for this partnership.

But John's refusal to take advantage has revealed one additional thing: an answer to a question that has been on his mind for some time. When Finch had been completely vulnerable, Reese's first impulse had not been to look out for his own interests: he had protected _him_.

That is one piece of information the Machine could never have given him, and may even- once the lingering effects pass, at least- render the experience a not entirely unfortunate event.

-x-


	19. All Out of Faith

**Title**: All Out of Faith

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: Gen

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _She believes him. God help her, she believes him._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.19 - "Flesh and Blood"

**Notes**: A slightly pessimistic Carter. Because much as I went "aww" at her last scene with Reese and Taylor, all the reasons she broke it off with Reese in the first place shouldn't melt away that easily.

* * *

There's a moment, when Joss first spies Taylor's name on her caller ID- when her breath catches and she realizes what John had been trying to say- that she feels a white-hot burst of reflexive anger tangle with the fear blossoming up her spine. Szymanski, Moretti, and now her _son_? She's just seen Elias' guys pulling up outside, and her nerves are still tingling with a half-guilty dread that John and his friend have found some vital reason to betray _this_ safe house, too.

_Carter, I've got to tell you something..._

Not words Joss _ever_ wants to hear in that tone of voice. And on the heels of that dread: Elias' voice. On her son's phone. Her heart clenches, and her first impulse is to blame the messenger.

Even if he _isn't_ immediately to blame, isn't John at the root of it all, anyway? Giving Elias what he wanted. Betraying a good cop- getting him shot in the gut for half a chance at saving a little girl. Saving Elias himself months ago, when the Russians had torn up their own territory to get at him. Step by step enabling the guy: allowing him the freedom and wherewithal to attempt whatever coup he's got going on now.

...But to say John should have done anything differently is to say he shouldn't be what he is; and she's known for months now _exactly_ what he's made of. She'd just been ignoring the full ramifications of what that meant until she'd knelt at Szymanski's side and found sorrow, but no regret, in John's eyes for his part in it. And even if he hadn't been involved, there's a good chance Joss still would have ended up here, fighting to stop Elias from ruining her city.

Alone, with no hope of saving her son. If she was even alive at all.

The anger shifts, burning behind her eyes, leaving her sick to her stomach. No, it's not John's fault. She might as well blame the Earth for striking a man blind, because it hadn't been between him and the sun when he'd looked up into its fire. John's actions are tangled up with the roots of today's events, but so are hers, and Moretti's, and Marlene Elias'- and the one to blame is the man who's using those actions to justify his own greed and desire for revenge.

But that isn't all. She'd taken the help of John and his friend earlier that day out of necessity, not because she was ready to forgive them. But now- the only reason Joss can afford to stand on her principles and reject Elias's crooked bargain is because someone else has promised to save her that choice: to rescue Taylor for her.

_I'm going to get your son back. No matter what the cost..._

She believes him. God help her, she believes him.

They may win against Elias this day. But she's lost the high ground, now. And she's not sure she'll ever get it back.

-x-


	20. Bloody, But Unbowed

**Title**: Bloody, But Unbowed

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _It all comes down to a matter of trust_. 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.20 - "Matsya Nyaya"

**Notes**: Written May 3. More introspective!John. Title from "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley.

* * *

Reese wonders, from time to time, exactly how much Finch knows about the mission that had broken his ties with the CIA and set him adrift without purpose. How many details of that particular example of CIA 'good business'- the divide and conquer, scald the earth cover up in China and its fallout- had been captured in sound files, scanned orders, or salvaged video for Finch and his all-seeing Machine? He's read far too deeply into Reese from their first meeting not to know a lot more than the official line.

But how many of the details had his investigation uncovered?

...And how many of them had Finch already known, without having to be shown?

The order Reese had questioned, and the ones he hadn't. The faith Reese had broken, and the faith that had been broken _with_ him. And perhaps most critically, in hindsight: the nature of the device Reese and Stanton had been sent to secure. The laptop she'd been carrying when the missiles fell.

_It all comes down to a matter of trust._

The only way to opt out of the law of the fishes is to stop swimming, and Reese forfeited that choice the moment he took Finch's offer. He knows what the consequences of reentering the current will be- but he hasn't forgotten the lessons of his past, either. Tommy had been right about at least one thing: if the bullets, knives, and explosions don't eventually take him out, insufficient attentiveness _will_. He trusts Finch to do his utmost to save lives; Carter to remind him of the line between right and wrong; and Fusco to do the necessary things the others won't. But they all have their own agendas, too, just as Kara had, and the moment he forgets that is the moment he invites his own destruction. Again.

He's done with not asking questions, with simply following orders. Carter wants to know where they're headed? So does Reese. But there's no guarantee their destinations are the same- and there never will be. Carter and Fusco have each chosen a divergent path when their goals came into conflict with his before, and a betrayal once made is more easily repeated. Finch hasn't- but Reese has seen enough signs to predict that eventuality. If the right number comes up, with the right association to his past...

_We clean up our own mess, Reese. You know that._

But as dark as the future might be, there is still a faint spark of light in the present. More than he'd ever thought there'd be again after the long journey back from Ordos. He does trust his new colleagues, to a point; and that's enough to do what needs doing. Nothing he does may make a difference for him- or for Finch; but it may very well change the lives of a number of smaller fishes. So until someone proves that he _has_ outlived his usefulness, that's what he's going to do.

Obsolete or not- he's still here.

-x-


	21. Confirmation Bias in the Palm of My Hand

**Title**: Confirmation Bias in the Palm of My Hand

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _The photo in her hand feels like an inevitability. Like something she should have seen coming._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.21 - "Many Happy Returns"

**Notes**: Written May 11. I was starting to wonder how long this show could circle the trust issue before stepping off the tightrope in one direction or the other...

* * *

The photo in her hand feels like an inevitability. Like something she should have seen coming.

This woman, this Jessica: John looks happy sitting next to her, ten years before Joss met him. Before the CIA and whatever happened there to shake him. Before he'd somehow got word about Jessica's fate and returned to take it out on her husband. Donnelly's probably right about one thing: he hadn't been expecting what he'd found. But it hadn't been the fight itself that made him sloppy.

How long had John spent on the streets after that before he ended up at Joss's precinct? Three quarters of a year or so? A long time to be soul-searching.

Time enough for his friend to have found him? Yeah; that fits too, another puzzle piece into place. Harold had known what Joss would find in New Rochelle and sent her anyway. What, did he think she'd identify more with John if she discovered his motivation personally?

She fingers the worn edges of the photo, and admits he's partially right. Calculating bastard. She knows who John _was_ now, and what made him who he _is_, and she can't quite condemn him for it, no matter what he's done with Jennings.

But that's not what made her decide to keep the image when she shredded everything else.

Joss has never seen him smile like that. She'd had Taylor to reach her, after. Who does John have?

She tucks the photo into her pocket, then answers her phone.

* * *

Reese stares down at the small rectangle of stiff paper in his hand, turning it over to examine the addresses on both sides.

Harold Wren of Universal Heritage Insurance: that one, he had already plotted on the map from Fusco's research, though he doesn't think Finch knows that. The other... is an address in the neighborhood where Reese meets with Han. Combined with the gift of a key, it's... suggestive.

Is this Finch's idea of reciprocity? Encouraging him to accept a new residence, and forgive his recent omissions, by offering information of similar significance? Not his own home address, but a point of contact- including his first alias on public record. Reese well remembers how skittish Finch had been about his cover identity when they'd first met.

Is this trust? Is this forming a new connection? Eleven years of defining himself around one loss, in one way or another, have rendered perspective difficult- even without all his other reasons for wariness.

Finch hasn't said another word about Jennings. No more than he had about Andrew Benton. Is that because he already knows, because it doesn't matter, or because he doesn't want to? Carter had assumed the worst. But she'd also had faith enough not to expose him, and in return he'd made sure Gustavo Peña gave her the truth. Maybe he's waiting for similar certainty with Finch, some clarity of understanding.

And maybe he'll be waiting a long time. But... he thinks he'll go and check out this apartment, regardless.

-x-


	22. Johnny's In America

**Title**: Johnny's In America

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: PG/K+

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the world is not.

**Summary**: _Finch may as well have left a trail of breadcrumbs._ 500 words.

**Fandom**: Person of Interest, 1.22 - "No Good Deed"

**Notes**: Written May 14. Titled from the David Bowie song on this episode's soundtrack.

* * *

Finch has a habit of holding people at a distance.

He knows this about himself. It's been a part of his makeup since before the Machine was a mere spark of an idea; since before he met Nathan at MIT. He compartmentalizes each relationship from every other, and effaces himself from any kind of public recognition. It's custom and nature working in tandem; as Nathan used to say, he likes his secrets.

That habit has never bothered him before. But lately, the distance he maintains between his core self and the rest of humanity has been shrinking- and not only in regards to Reese. His careful constructs are all beginning to collapse in on themselves; he is in more danger now of being _known_, in more than one sense of the word, than he has been in many years.

He'd love to blame that on the company he's been keeping, both constant and incidental- like Peck. On their ability to read him, hard earned through training and experiences he can only conceptualize, outpacing his ability to move three steps ahead of the game and prompting Finch to say more than he should. But the truth is, he wouldn't even be in this position if he truly hadn't wanted it to happen.

Somewhere at the root of his own mental processes, a tiny crack is busily becoming a flood.

_Any exploit is a total exploit_, he'd told Nathan the night they'd shut down the Machine. That's true of more than just computer systems. For years, he'd said- and believed- that they had to draw the line somewhere, an extension of a concept he'd lived his life by for a very long time. That line was necessary to reduce the Machine's relevant output to an actionable quantity... and for a while, had allowed him to maintain his detachment.

Subsequent events, however, had put a crack in that façade. And its slow and steady expansion has led him... _here_.

Finch turns his torso as the creak of Grace's front door carries across the park. He may as well have left a trail of breadcrumbs; he may not know which specific clues Reese picked up that led him here, but the eventuality of his presence in this place had been more or less to be expected. A former spy and special forces operative visiting the woman he'd once loved more than his own life? Finch should, theoretically, have done all he could to prevent it from happening.

But despite all Reese has done, despite the fact that some of the red in his ledger can be attributed to Finch's account, Finch _knows_ that Reese will not hurt Grace. The man would sooner kick a kitten than harm an innocent. Finch has been around him enough to know.

Has been around him enough to _be_ known.

He wraps his hand around the cup of Sencha Green John had left at Soldo's Coffee for him, then stands as the distance between them shrinks a little more.

-x-


End file.
